


Under My Thumb

by SadieDonovan747



Category: The Beatles
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 06:12:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6412207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SadieDonovan747/pseuds/SadieDonovan747
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a poolside photoshoot, John and Paul are finally alone. Paul cannot hide his feelings for John any longer. He thinks John will kick him out of the band for his actions, but Paul is pleasantly surprised.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under My Thumb

The four mop-topped lads were soaked head to toe, frolicking in the chilly waters of their photoshoot. The photographer snapped photos of them as they fought over and floundered around on top of their raft, and all flipped their sopping locks out of their faces, laughing and carrying on as usual. Paul couldn’t get over the way John’s hair clung to his face and the way his swooping and hooked nose scrunched up as he laughed…. No he mustn’t think of it- not here anyways. Not while the photographer was snapping away lest he capture even more proof of his incessant gazing at his best mate.

The birds, there were birds there, Paul focused his attention on them, but his eyes kept flashing back to his drenched and dripping friend. He watched with lips parted as John climbed from the pool, “’Ey, photo-grapher. Take a photo of this!” Paul watched his muscular thighs as he sprinted and cannon-balled from the diving board, causing a rain of water to cascade upon the other three resulting in Paul giggling like a bird, all to noticeably.

“Thank you, gentlemen,” The photographer grinned as he had finished his snapping away. John and Paul climbed out of the pool, their hands brushing for a mere instant on the ladder causing them both to shudder instantly, making eye contact, and breaking it just as quickly. The four filed out to shake hands with the man, and he was on his way, leaving the four Beatles to whatever they would like. They had nothing to do for several hours and were a bit stumped as to what to do next.

“I’d like a nice cup of tea, myself,” John stated lazily with a yawn.

“Me as well,” Paul added in response.

“Ey, Ringo, you want to drive around a bit or see a film?” George asked. And so the two other Beatles were off in their car and bundled up in strange disguises to ward off unruly fans.

Paul and John were alone, and Paul couldn’t help the knot that was clenching in his stomach as he watched John sip his tea and read the paper as if nothing were the matter. His friend’s hair had dried perfectly, leaving his chestnut hair glossy and his cheeks as well. They burned in the steam of the tea and Paul shuddered as he licked his teeth after every sip. “It’s hot out today, isn’t it?” Paul ventured to ask.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” John replied, not removing his eyes from the paper he was scrutinizing. They sat for nearly an hour playing a record of Little Richard and occasionally humming along. Suddenly, John asked nonchalantly, “’Ey come on, let’s go for an evening swim since Ringo and George don’t get back till late apparently.”

Paul jumped at the idea and dashed outside with his friend. Upon arriving at the edge of the pool, John stripped down to his swimming shorts and dove right on in. “Come on Paulie, the water’s great,” John teased, splashing at him. Paul was stricken with momentary dismay when he realized he had changed out of his swimming suit. “What’s the hold up?”

“I don’t have a swim suit on.”

“Well swim in your underwear; what has that ever mattered?” cried John, submerging the bottom half of his face below his hooked nose, blowing a steady stream of bubbles.

Paul hurriedly stripped down to his briefs and hopped into the water, the both of them hooting with laughter. John lay on his back, floating around in the dim light; slowly inhaling the night’s approaching scent. “This is the life,” he sighed. Paul grasped onto the side and watched his angelic best mate float, his delicious stomach and glorious chest bobbing up and down. His thin lips made Paul’s mouth water, and he was sure he could take no more of the torture.

With surprising force, Paul grasped John’s wrist and yanked him through the water towards him. John yelped and chuckled, thinking Paul was messing with him, but his glee soon turned to shock as Paul pressed their wet bodies together, Paul feeling the delicious skin-on-skin that he had been longing for all this time.

John struggled, and foam formed around the two men as Paul fought for his grip on John. Dunking John under, Paul grasped both sides of his helpless face and pressed their lips together bruisingly, Paul lapping at his lips, trying with all his might to enter John’s cavernous hot mouth with his tongue. John shoved Paul’s chest, knocking the wind out of him and resulting in his grasping at the side of the pool.

“Christ, Paul! Sod off will, ya? What are you trying to do? Eat my face?!” John roared, obviously taken aback and embarrassed. He hopped out of the pool, streams of water flowing from every crevice, and without grabbing for a towel of any sort, stomped inside their condo. Paul treaded water, absolutely stunned at what he had just done.

Paul’s eyes stung with hot tears as he realized what he had done to his friendship and his best mate’s pride. He’d ruined all of it. He couldn’t move for several minutes in near paralysis. He was positive John would kick him out of the band. He couldn’t handle the ripping pain in his chest and he pulled himself from the pool, trembling under fear and guilt.

He stumbled into his room and collapsed on his bed, unable to hold back the intruding tears. He burrowed his face into his pillow and gave a great yelp, unable to think of anything to do to fix his unforgivable deed. After a few minutes, he’d calmed down enough to realize the only thing he could possibly do was apologize. It was worth a shot. He stood up, and wiped his soggy eyes and thrust open his door.

He’d hardly taken a step down the corridor when he bumped into John. Shock took over John’s face for a moment before his eyes began to glisten and he almost looked angry, a scowl playing upon his thin lips. He shoved Paul against the hard plaster wall. “John, I’m sorry,” Paul choked.

“Sorry are you, McCartney?” John hissed, grasping Paul by a fistful of his hair. Paul shut his eyes, bracing himself for heavy blows from his more built companion, but instead, a hot tingling sensation shot through his body as their lips met for a second time, John nearly more ravenous than Paul had been. Paul parted his lips, and John’s greedy tongue showed itself in, his mouth fucking Paul’s. Their tongues entwined and danced together, and they lapped at each other feverishly.

Their lips parted for a moment, and Paul felt John’s steaming breath against his neck and he leaned his head back and moaned as John whispered roughly, “Fucking Christ, Macca, why did you do this to me.” John pressed their hips together, the electric-like shock causing Paul to groan madly, and he attacked Paul’s neck, nibbling and sucking. “You thought you were going to have me under your thumb, Paulie,” John whispered in broken phrases. “I’ll show you.”

John grabbed Paul by the waistband of his underwear, and half dragged him to the edge of the pool deck. John dropped to his knees as Paul stood helpless, and John pulled his boxers down, revealing Paul’s manhood, already standing at attention. John was in awe of what he had hungered to see with every passing day. Paul leaned back his head half expecting John to act, but instead John pulled him into the pool.

The chilly water caught Paul off guard for a bit, but with John’s ravenous kisses and his fingers roaming to his ass and squeezing, Paul’s throbbing erection returned. “John, please” Paul moaned into John’s hair as he remained attacking Paul’s neck.

“Uh-uh, Paulie, you run this show.” John led him to the edge of the four-feet deep shallow end and dropped his swim shorts revealing himself. Grasping Paul’s head, he led him to the waterline and shoved his face in. Paul picked up immediately, licking up John’s shaft and popping the head into his mouth, bobbing his head back and forth. The chlorine burned his eyes and he had to frequently stop for breath as he was panting badly enough.

John grasped the side of the pool firmly, allowing loud groans to echo through the fenced off area of the pool. Suddenly, John grasped Paul by the arms and pulled him roughly out of the water, Paul immediately attacked John’s mouth with his own plump lips only to be smacked on his ass and dragged out of the pool. John threw him onto the cement on his hands and knees and stalked into the house, warning Paul that if he moved, he would feel John’s wrath.

John returned with a bottle of lubricant. Paul caught his breath and hardly had time to think before John’s fingers were slipping inside of him, and making scissoring motions. Paul arched back and moaned with the pain and pleasure John was giving him at last. Paul braced himself as John slid into him and the next thing he knew was the sound of wet skin smacking together between waves of pain and absolute ecstasy.

Finally John hit the right spot causing Paul to arch back and give a loud yell of pleasure, and John continued to aim for the same spot, his thrusting getting more aggressive and both their fervent panting and groans growing louder and louder. John gave a yelp and exploded inside of Paul. John grasped Paul’s member and began to pleasure his best friend for dear life, and after a few seconds, Paul came just as powerfully as his best mate.

John pulled out and Paul groggily whirled around and nearly collapsed, pressing his face against John’s bare, sticky chest. John led him to the soft stairs of the pool, and he sat down, arms tightly around the younger Beatle. John stroked Paul’s dark damp hair and cooed, “Oh Paulie, Paulie,” in his ear.

Paul panted and held his arms wrapped around John’s waist. “Johnny,” he gasped, “I thought you were disgusted with me.”

“No, Paulie,” John kissed the crown of Paul’s head, “I was shocked. You have no idea what you do to me.” He kissed Paul again and again and held him closer pressed to his chest. “Every day prancing around with that redhead. Makes me jealous to tell the truth. You sitting there with mesmerizing eyes and your plumpy lips singin’ into that microphone. Nearly drives me up the wall to know I can never have that. Your being with Jane is such a waste.”

With John’s words, Paul nuzzled up into John’s neck, and so they stayed, in the chilly water until they heard George and Ringo’s car pull out up front, and they scrambled for their shorts, laughing the entire run to greet them.


End file.
